Jasper Vale writes not to explain the unknown, but to invite readers into it. With ink that drips like candlewax and prose that drifts like smoke through ancient corridors, Vale crafts stories where mystery and eternity whisper to one another through shadowed arches.
Little is known of Vale’s personal history—by design. What is known is that each novel is a kind of reckoning: between light and dark, life and death, silence and voice. His most recent work, Three Days Hollow, explores what lies behind the veil of mortality, venturing into forgotten realms where grief becomes a compass and hope, a haunting.
When not writing, Vale is often found walking wooded trails at dusk, staring too long into old portraits, or listening to the hush between thunderclaps.